


From the Stars

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3891508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is home on mandatory leave after a rough mission. Phil is late getting home from work, but gets a pretty good idea on the way. It all leads to an empty field under the stars, and a long time coming declaration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jo (jmathieson)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/gifts).



> For Jo, who seemed like she could use a little piece of fluff. I hope she doesn't mind!
> 
> Also, Phil says something in the story that, as I wrote it, felt really familiar, like I was quoting someone. I went and googled the sentences (the title comes from it), and I couldn't find a source. Someone suggested it was in Babylon 5, which I did used to watch religiously, so perhaps Strazinski originated it. Sorry for any unintended plagiarism!

Phil’s pen scratched across the form, and the sound seemed to echo in his empty office. He kept writing. The pen kept up its job as audio track, and fifteen minutes later Phil had a headache building behind his eyes. He set the pen down and looked over at his empty couch. He sighed and pulled his phone from his pocket and typed out a quick text. _You should be lying on my couch bitching right now._ He hit send, set the phone down, and rubbed his eyes.

Before he could pick his pen back up, his phone chimed with the stupid little laugh track alert sound Clint had programmed for himself. _You should be home making pancakes for dinner_ , came the reply.

He typed back, _down time for both of us at once? Blasphemy._

Clint was on mandatory leave after a shit storm of a mission a few days ago. He’d come back with a knife wound far too close to his throat for Phil’s comfort and two nights worth of nightmares about the two agents who were killed in front of him before an extraction team could get Clint and the remaining ground agent out of the prison where a rogue AIM group held them for two days.

Phil was still working on the paperwork generated by the mission. Sitwell had been handler, but there had been nothing anyone could have done to prevent it. Intel wasn’t accurate, conditions for the mission were shit at best, but Sitwell and Clint (senior specialist on the team) would both be fighting guilt soaked dreams for a while, most likely. Phil hated being away from home right now.

_I’m trying to finish this boxful of paperwork so I can come home and make you pancakes_ , he typed a few minutes later.

_Nah. I ordered Thai and I’m mainlining Pixar movies. I’m okay._

Still, Phil wrote faster.

Two hours later he climbed into his car and looked at the clock. It wasn’t yet eight at night, which for Phil was actually pretty good. He loosened his tie and headed home. When he stopped at a stoplight and had to wait for almost five minutes for it to change, he fiddled with his radio impatiently, and found a news channel doing a science special. He loved science specials. As he pulled through the stop light, finally, the radio program hit him with the perfect idea. He might’ve stepped on the gas a little harder to get home.

He found Clint huddled in one corner of the couch clutching a pillow and watching Dory slip down the tongue of a giant whale. Clint’s eyes were shadowed and his shoulders were too tense for one of his all-time favorite movies, so Phil reached over and pushed pause on the remote. Clint didn’t look at him.

“Hey,” he said, gently pulling the pillow from Clint’s grasp.

“Hey,” Clint replied, and he ran a hand down his face. “Glad you’re home.” He leaned over and kissed Phil slowly. He pulled back with a smile that never failed to make Phil’s toes tingle, even four years into their relationship.

“I had an idea,” Phil said. “Are you very tired?”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Exhausted. But we both know I won’t sleep.”

Phil nodded. “Yeah. So, I heard a report on the way home and I think I have a surprise for you if you’re okay with loading into the car and going for a bit of a drive.”

“Uh. Okay?” Clint looked down at himself. “I’m wearing pajamas. Should I change?”

Phil laughed. Leave it to Clint to think there might be a situation where he could leave but keep his pajamas on. “Jeans and a t-shirt would be appropriate.”

Clint huffed dramatically as he stood up. “If jeans and a t-shirt are appropriate, then why aren’t jammies appropriate?”

“Because my mom taught me to always anticipate other people?” Phil replied.

“Your mom taught you to anticipate the Inquisition. That’s your problem.”

“Yeah, yeah. Put some pants on. I’ll gather a few things.”

Phil headed to the kitchen and found a small cooler in the pantry. He loaded it with a couple bottles of iced tea and some cheese and grapes, and then he went to the hall closet and pulled down a blanket from the shelves. Clint came out with jeans, an old, ratty Led Zeppelin t-shirt, and his favorite green baseball cap.

He looked at Phil curiously. “Are we going on a picnic?”

Phil shrugged. “Sort of. Come on.”

Phil drove and had to chuckle because fifteen minutes into the trip Clint was sound asleep with his head against the car window and was snoring lightly. Two hours later, when the car stopped, he jolted awake with a sharp breath. Phil put a hand on his arm and rubbed gently. “It’s okay. We’re safe.”

Clint sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Are we here?”

“Yep. Come on.”

They climbed out of the car and Phil grabbed the blanket and cooler from the trunk. They had parked in what looked like a truck pull-off area, and there was a path leading into some dark woods behind the car. Phil tossed Clint a flashlight from the trunk and flipped one of his own on. Without a word, he led them into the woods.

“This is something out of a horror movie, Phil,” Clint said after a few minutes.

“It’s just ahead. We’re almost there,” Phil answered, and took another chance to breathe clean, crisp night air through his nose. In under a minute, the trail emerged into a field. A huge field.

Clint stopped short as Phil turned off his flashlight. “Oh my god,” Clint whispered behind him.

Phil grinned and reached over to turn Clint’s light off, and he reached for his hand, too. Holding Clint’s hand tightly, he led them into the field, a wide expanse of land that seemed to stretch into the void. Clint’s head was tilted up, and it was a good thing Phil held his hand, because he would’ve tripped and fallen for sure. Phil found a small patch where the grass wasn’t as thick, and he stopped, spreading the blanket out on the ground.

He tugged Clint down to the blanket and pointed up. “We’ve got about forty minutes until one of the biggest meteor showers of the year is supposed to start. Want a snack?”

Clint still hadn’t taken his eyes off the sky. There was no light pollution here, and the stars were shimmering and peppering the night sky with diamond brilliance. They didn’t need flashlights. Phil could see Clint’s face clearly, and awe was written all over it. “You brought me out to watch a meteor shower?” he whispered, and finally looked over at Phil.

Phil smiled and nodded. “You said you weren’t going to sleep anyway. It seemed like a good idea at the mo-“

Clint cut him off with a kiss. He kissed Phil hard and wrapped his fingers in Phil’s hair and licked into his mouth, running his tongue across Phil’s teeth and then nipping at Phil’s bottom lip. Phil leaned in and kissed him back, holding the back of his neck with one hand and wrapping his arm around his waist with the other. They kissed long and deep, and when Clint pulled back his eyes were shining like one of the stars.

“Thank you,” he said.

Phil laughed. “You’re welcome.” He was surprised at Clint’s enthusiasm, but he was enjoying it. They tangled their fingers together and laid back on the blanket. They stared at the stars in silence for a while.

“I used to sleep in fields like this as a kid,” Clint said abruptly. “I loved it.”

Phil looked over at him, but his eyes were still on the stars.

“When we first got to the circus I thought sleeping in the fields was the best thing ever. I could get as far away as I wanted from everyone. It was so quiet.”

He didn’t say anything else, and they stayed silent until the first meteor streaked across the sky. Phil heard Clint gasp when he saw it. He squeezed his hand again. They watched as the sky lit up with color, streams of light every few minutes, some brighter than others, at least three of them looking like someone had a fiery orange marker and was dragging it across the sky.

When it was over, Clint closed his eyes for a few minutes, just breathing deeply. Then he sat up and pulled his knees to his chest and looked over at Phil. “Every time I closed my eyes the past three days, I’d see Rodriguez and Wickham. Every goddamned time.” He paused and looked up at the stars again. “Tonight I see stars and you.”

Phil leaned into his shoulder. “From the stars we are made, and to the stars we will return,” he whispered.

Clint just nodded and put his head on Phil’s shoulder. After a moment, he stood up, pulled Phil up next to him, and put his hand on Phil’s cheek. “I love you,” he said, and Phil thought maybe gravity stopped working for a moment. He felt like he was flying apart. It was the first time Clint had ever said the words out loud. Four years of dating and living together and they were words that just didn’t seem to work for his mouth. Phil didn’t mind. He knew Clint loved him, and he knew why the words were so difficult for him.

Tonight they seemed to slip from his mouth like they’d been waiting there all along.

Phil leaned in and kissed him again, short and tender, and pulled back. “I love you, too,” he whispered.

They gathered their things, clasped hands again, and headed back to the car. Clint slept in the car again on the way home, and then he slept the whole night through. Phil might’ve had a little trouble sleeping as he lay there in bed and watched Clint sleep, and heard Clint’s words echo over and over again in his head, like stars shimmering in the night sky.

 


End file.
